『 ██ ＴＨＥ ＧＡＭＥ。 █ 』 full

Of all the dirty, rotten, underhanded tactics!

Ichiri stows away in the minds of the unsuspecting.	2.6%	[ 1 ]
In any circumstance, Raphael adapts. ******** chameleon.	5.1%	[ 2 ]
Dis consumes the field and claims the casualties.	12.8%	[ 5 ]
Alicia kills, resurrects, kills again and repeats.	10.3%	[ 4 ]
How can you stop Zero when suspended in time?	7.7%	[ 3 ]
Twisting and toying with emotions is Elessar's tactic.	7.7%	[ 3 ]
Nadia's witchery and spellbook know no bounds.	10.3%	[ 4 ]
Kill Sacha? He's already dead. Destroy him? Too late!	15.4%	[ 6 ]
Satan.	28.2%	[ 11 ]
Total Votes:			[ 39 ]

[Karime Blackwing]

secywhitespace L o o k xa t xh i m , xl o o k xa t xm e
moooresecywhitespaceThat boy is bad, and honestly
moooresecywhitespace▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ Husani Stheno✦ Confidant
secywhitespace H e ' s xa xw o l f xi n xd i s g u i s e
moooresecywhitespaceBut I can't stop staring at those evil eyes
moooresecywhitespace▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ The Oven ✦ Love isn't for my kind


sexywhite

Husani liked a good fight every now and again. But this just pissed him off, really. He was, admittedly, quite startled initially. The boy moved at the same moment he did, and despite being a limb less, he was clearly familiar with killing, even if only slightly so. His bright claws only caught a hem of fabric, his grip bearing down on listless air. Missing was always frustrating, but Husani wasn't going to get too angry just yet. He could take a miss. What happened next was what was really startling. All of a sudden the heat disappeared, and for a moment Husani felt sheer cold. It was the oddest feeling, being surrounded by both heat and chill at once. A sound like glass made his bright eyes dart to one side, but he didn't catch more than a glimpse of something white-ish blue-ish before whatever it was collided with his neck.
"Kuh--!" Husani stumbled forward, slightly, as the blunt force of the impact at the juncture of his neck and his shoulder sent him forwards. How on earth was this boy so fast, and where was this strength coming from. With a low, loud hiss, Husani reeled back, fighting the numbness and stiffness that was quickly seeping into his brass shoulder. The scaled extended up his shoulder, somewhat to his neck and more down that side, but they were thinner there, and offered little protection against the icy attack. But he used his momentum to drag his claws back, managing to block the body blow with his steely scaled forearm.

The gorgon spun his body to try and face to face the lad, but not before the third blow had been landed. Being in motion at the moment of impact, he wasn't so easily thrown off balance since the momentum wasn't easily countered, but the raw power behind the blow was painful. And the snakes which he'd kept at an eased sleep along the back of his neck certainly didn't take well to it. Three serpents had their spines broken and fell limp and listless against Husanis spine. The remaining several, however, fought back in vicious retaliation. They lashed out, wrapping around the offending hand and sinking their long, venomous fangs into whatever foreign flesh they could get to. While the feeling was satisfying, Husani did still have feeling in those snakes, and having three spines broken was enough to enrage the monster. He swept his clawed arm out, its movement considerably stifled, in hopes of bashing the boy in the side with the rock hard appendage and knocking the wind out of him, maybe knocking him down. Hell, if he was lucky he could drag his claws across his flesh as he'd hoped to all along.

All this time, of course, his human hand hadn't been idle. As soon as he felt his scaled arm being impaired, he'd grabbed the hilt of his black sword. Now he withdrew the blade fully. Although, having it in his left hand and the boy on his right side, he had no opening to attack him at that moment,

#668B8B #CD6090

[olza]

鬼Location: The "key is in the corpse" room.

鬼Mind: From Calmness to rage to horror.


鬼Body; Nauseous - ◕ ◕ ◕ ◕



▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ▬▬▬






☰─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ Highs and lows, Confidence, anger and fear. ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─☰



Limp, red-ochre hair stuck to Raphael’s sweaty brow above his rapidly twitching eyes, seeking out the darkest corners of the room, all of them filled with the zombies only Raphael could see. But this was not the time to freak out, As Raphael told himself mentally, firmly. Later, he would cry and b***h over his fiancé’s betrayal. Later, he would shiver and scream at the images of corpses walking around with him now. Don‘t freak out, the ghosts are here to guide you. Don‘t act like their b***h, but they‘re here to help, even if they are ******** grim. Ok, deep breaths. First, inventory check: pockets - Phone, probably no signal, I don‘t think Verizon covers trans-dimensional phone calls. Clothing: Police uniform, NYPD. belt: 9mm pistol in it‘s holster. Ok, well at least you‘re armed. Got a torch and a badge on your belt, too. Wait, Torch, ok.
A light burning sensation thrilled through his wrist as he pulled his torch from his belt. Raphael wrote it off as a cramp from the sudden trans-dimensional nap, so he didn’t notice the bead splintering into existence on his wristband as he directed the beam of light over to the pitiful corpse.
Raphael, turned the torch as one of the other contestants woke up, but jumped as a rib bone whipped across the back of his skull. The Bony drill sergeant muttered in his ear “Lesson number two. Expect the unexpected.”

As Addison got unsteadily to her feet Raphael clicked the torch into life. It was heavy, and had a long battery life. Which was good, because Raphael was certain he wasn’t going to find a 7/11 anywhere nearby. Then again, Dross probably threw one in for kicks. Probably a load of razorblades in the frozen goods aisle, dead babies in the groceries, and ogres chilling in the toilets. Wait, don’t think like that, you’ll give him ideas… Raphael shook his head, silencing his overactive imagination.

As the strange girl ran over to him, Raphael tried to keep up some semblance of a guard to any threat this hysterical young woman could pose. expect the unexpected Raphael thought to himself. Something about this young woman was off. he had been trained in dealing with mentally damaged or different people during his stint with the NYPD, so now, as the young woman cried tears and mucus onto the already filthy floor, Raphael thought through the ways he could deal with her.
The aim of the game is to cause the pain and death of others, but also to survive. I only have three beads so- Raphael glanced at the wrist above the hand holding the torch, and promptly lost his train of thought - Four… huh. Is the girl in that much of a state, in so much terror that she has lost a bead? Raphael frowned as he saw Addison’s three glistening ruby beads on her wrist, and as he shone his torch over to the glowing man who hadn’t yet awoke, he saw three turquoise beads on his wrist, too.

So… how had he gained a bead? The rules, impossibly etched in his mind, stated that you could gain a bead by simply being around someone in a state of severe pain or self inflicted or accidental death….
Death. torture... Wait… Raphael’s eyes widened as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
Like the boy at the centre of the room! Raphael opened his mouth to gasp, at the same time as a sickening squelch emanated from the centre of the room as the girl began to search around the boys guts. “Wait, WAIT! He‘s alive!” Raphael stumbled as he hurried across the room, but Addison had already yanked her arm out, deciding she couldn’t find the key, He placed a hand on Addison’s shoulder as she slumped on the floor, trying to calm her “I‘m sure we‘ll be fine, ma‘am, I‘m Raphael, I'll give it a go, ok?” Raphael nodded reassuringly to her as he walked over to the corpse, positioning himself so he faced Addison while he knelt by the ‘dead’ boy. He could see the Glowing man out of the corner of his eye when the ghosts weren’t obscuring him, as an added bonus.

Kneeling by the remains, Raphael tried to hold back vomit as the smell rose from the corpse. He took the boy by the shoulder nearest him, not tightly, just to let the kid know he was there, and began speaking calmly, trying to set his tone in such a way that would reassure the child. “Hello, My name is Raphael Preverell, I‘m a police man, you can trust me, ok?” Raphael glanced down at the incision, shining his torch at the wound.
To his surprise, a glint of reflected light appeared from the mess of entrails, the key was in sight, glistening with brown viscous blood, but the smallest square millimetre still clear of it proved it was a brownish metal, possibly brass or copper. It was like a tiny star of hope in the boy’s stomach. “Ok, I want you to try to relax, I think the key is what is keeping you asleep, so I‘m going to try and remove it.” Sleep, such a stupid way to put it, the boy had no pulse, the only proof of life was the two pearl beads hanging from his wrist. And the little white lie about the key keeping him in the state was necessary. It gave the boy hope. Raphael knew he needed the hope of freedom just as much as the boy. He was sure he wouldn’t have been able to do this before his torture at the hands of the ghosts and Drosselmeyer but now he’d been through that, the gore of the situation just didn’t deem to phase him, even if the stink did.

Raphael carefully wriggled his hand into the cut. It was getting smaller, he was sure of it. But where Addison had been brutal, Raphael was gentle, he didn’t thrash about or push at the guts of the child, he carefully pushed until his fingers reached something that wasn’t soft yielding organ or hard spine.
It was the key. Raphael could hardly reach it and he was almost wrist deep. His hand was simply too large. His fingers brushed against the slick key, threatening to push it even deeper into the folds of the child’s flesh. But it wasn’t the distance that was making it difficult, the child’s abdominal muscles were clamped down onto the key, and with all the bloody lubricant, it was impossible to pull out.
Raphael finally understood. He had to calm down the child. It was supposedly simple, but children had a way of refusing to act logically.
Raphael had one hand inside the child’s wound, and one hand reassuringly placed on his shoulder, so there wasn’t much room for movement, but nevertheless, Raphael laughed as calmly as he could, as he knelt by the carcass of the small boy, "I tell you what kid, if we get out of this room, I owe you an ice cream, whaddaya say?" Raphael curled a couple of fingers round the little brass objective and prepared to pull smoothly if the boy calmed.
The abdominal muscles let off for a moment, if this was because the boy had calmed, or if they had simply fatigued, he did not know, but either way, the key slid out and up, twisting round before Raphael victoriously clamped his fingers around it.
Drawing out his hand, Raphael chuckled to himself “Expect the unexpected, thanks, sarge.” The bony drill sergeant grinned as he stood on the peripheral of Raphael's vision. Though without any lips, he did that a lot.

Raphael Called out to The glowing man, whom he thought he saw stirring, and to the young girl. “Guys, I got the key, where‘s the door?” Raphael said, pausing, but then changing his mind, he could find it himself. He flicked his torch light round the room, and located the door, “Never mind, I got it.” Raphael reattatched his torch to his belt as he rose, and walked over to the door, but hesitated before he unlocked it. What if it was booby trapped? What if the door burst into flames or had an arrow that shot out the lock at the first sign of movement?
Raphael swallowed audibly and in one smooth motion, slammed the key home and gave it a few turns.
…
Click. Nothing happened. It was… surprising.

“Well done, brother, looks like you‘ve proved that you are a monster.” Raphael flinched “What?” He turned from the unlocked, yet still shut door, to see his brother grinning snidely, his eye swinging from its socket like a pendulum.
“You lied to the poor little kid, and then violated him, you‘re practically a rapist. A child rapist, wow. A great start, well done.” The small child laughed, and anger boiled up in Raphael “I am not a monster, I‘m taking him with me, I didn‘t lie.” The ghostly child laughed even harder. “I didn‘t liiee~ I‘m a good guy, it just so happens I enjoy sticking my hands in little boys-” “SHUT THE ******** UP” Raphael saw red, he drew his police issue 9mm and shot the ghost square in it’s stupid mish-mash of a face.
Only it didn’t stop there.
It flew further, across the room and towards Addison-
Thump. Raphael screwed his eyes shut before he saw whether the bullet hit.
A slow clap came from behind Raphael as tears began to stream down his face.
“Bravo Raphael. Looks like you‘re going to be a serial killer in no time!” giggled his brother.
Raphael slumped to the floor and stayed there, knelt, hugging himself with a white knuckle grip on his own shoulders.
“I- I‘m sorry…” He muttered, his voice cracking with terror at what he had done.
Had the bullet found the innocent young girl?
Raphael shuddered, but he just couldn’t open his eyes…











↘ I am the serial killer
xxxxxxxxxxI am the b l o o d y hand
xxI am t h e chief whore { taker }
xxxxxxxxxxxxI am the chosen one.

[Titty McNipples]

x
❝xxxx【WHERE'S YOUR ♛ CROWN, KING?】
xxx i xx want xx it xx all xx i xx don't xx care xx how
xxxxxxxxx〖xxit all crashes down and you break your crownxx 〗
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx king ;; nothing
█████████████████████████████████████ ████████████
i'm trying to get my rocks off, so don't try to cockblock. i'm trying to get my rocks off, so don't try to cockblock. i'm trying to get my rocks off, so don't try to cockblock.

❝ xxxx【WHERE'S YOUR ♛ CROWN, KING?】
xxx i xx want xx that xx starxx i xx want xx it xx now
xxxxxxxxx〖xx you point your finger but no one's around. xx 〗
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx king ;; nothing
█████████████████████████████████████ ████████████
i'm trying to get my rocks off, so don't try to cockblock. i'm trying to get my rocks off, so don't try to cockblock. i'm trying to get my rocks off, so don't try to cockblock.




━ ❝ AKIRA ♡ HARUTO
♡ ↬; okay condition; hand injuryx ➹ ↬; [******** gross room x ♛ ↬; HURR




"Useless!" the Knight scoffed while raising his leg in an attempt to kick some of the foul-smelling sludge in Cherry's direction. Having been knee-deep in this mess, the action only caused Akira to lose his balance and topple hilariously backward into the thick muck. Plop! The sea of grime parted when he landed and sloshed back onto him, laying a fresh even coat over his clothes, arms and face. Yes, this time it had gotten his face. It was personal now! Such mess would've induced him into a bead-breaking panic had he not been so furious. "DROSSELMEYER!!!" bellowed Akira while jerking upright and wiping the debris away from his murky blue eyes. When the blonde opened his mouth to speak, he aquired an unpleasant taste of the mystery goo from the surface of his lips. His empty stomach wrenched tightly and the taste was forced from his body. Oh, how pretty Akira looked covered in slop with gastric acid dribbling down his chin... but that isn't all. As violent, negative energy pulsed through his body his hair began standing on end. The few strands that weren't gelled down were frayed out in various ridiculous directions. Sexy.

And he was seething. When Akira was mad you could see it, you could feel it and you could hear it. As the muddy blonde staggered back into a standing position, his entire physical body gave off the ominous buzz of a frayed electrical wire. Bzzzzzzzzzz... and the occasional crackling of sediments in the waste coming in contact with the unstable particles jumping around the man's body filled the room. If looks could kill, Cherry would be long dead from the glare that Akira was giving her right now. It was meant for Drosselmeyer, but that bastardcrap wasn't here right now and probably never would be if he knew what was good for him. CRACK! A large static shock occurred when the blonde's shoulder was touched. Touched. Whoever had touched him needed to learn real quick that Akira Haruto doesn't like to be touched. People were dirty-- erm... wait. Clearly that rule didn't apply when he had s**t for glaze. "Are either of you hurt?" The response he gave her was a quick, furious sideways glare. The picture of a "********" glare if you've never seen one.

The girl quickly proved her worth to Akira when she slipped in the mud. Clumsy b***h. The blonde watched skeptically as she clawed her way through the waste and revealed the door to escaping this room. The blonde's eyes lit up and his gaze flitted from the door, to the girl, back to the door and then the girl once again. "Well done...!" he strained to compliment while a devious and tragically plastic smile stretched across his mud-smeared features. The man turned his head lightly and whipped his hair over his shoulder in an attempt to look appealing... and it might've worked had he not been drenched in waste from head to ******** toe. Akira would never ever be able to come to terms with that fact that when he was disgusting, he was disgusting... not gorgeous per usual. "I'm so happy to see you~! You are just what I needed." he crooned as if the butterfly was a long lost friend. Akira did his best to wade over toward the girl gracefully, but the resistance in the room wouldn't allow him to do anything but lumber to her. Splaying his fingertips out, he took a light, sensuous hold onto the chest of her shirt... ....

and wiped his hand on it like a dish towel.

"Now, what were you saying?" he said with great disinterest while continuing to wipe his hands off on her clothes. "Haha... did you honestly suggest I take a section of this room and search it? That's almost funny." Akira scoffed while retracting his hands from her gross body in disgust. "While we're at it, how about you take a section of my d**k and suck it?" His icy eyes strayed downward towards the door and back up to Liliana with a slight smile accompanying them. "You did such a good job finding the door, Consuela... I'm certain you can find the key if you just put your mind to it." Akira spoke in such a sweet, syrupy drawl that it should've been impossible to disobey him. A shame that nobody ever followed his guidance unless he "sweetened" the deal. "Two minutes." the Knight reminded while prominently pointing at and displaying his right arm. Tstttt! The tip of his pointer finger exploded into sparks like a fuse had been light. As the bright, sparkling energy traveled down his finger the entire appendage was swallowed up by the growing glow. "Better start digging before I make like a bomb and blow this room to nothing." That's two... maybe three beads for Akira, plus an easy end to being trapped in this room. No skin off his back.

You'd better recognize. b***h, he's the bomb, like, tick tick.

★ : stored energy x ███████████████████████████████████▕

[bhuniveIze]

；Oliver H. M. Denmanson ♛
xxxxxxxxxxxx ██████████████████████ ███████████████████████ ██████████████████████
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx But I’m quite sure that you’ll tell me just how I should feel today.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx How should I feel? Tell me, now how do I feel?

⊱ ◕ ◕ ◕


↷ . where ⊰ Lullaby Room

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep. You might suffer a nasty little nightmare...”

What else was new?

Oliver stared up at the seemingly endless ceiling, his eyes focusing on an intricate imaginary path he made out on its design. He’d found himself waking up (although it hadn’t felt like he’d been asleep) in this room. His head, heavy from exhaustion, lifted slightly up off of the pillow. His neck was sore from the effort and wasted energy and his head collapsed back down onto the pillow; enemy of the moment alongside this lullaby. Oliver reached up ever so slowly and grasped the edge of its soft satin casing. In a single move he pulled it from beneath his head and winced as it hit the floor. He kept his eyes shut as he waited for the waves of dull pain to pass through his skull. Opening them too fast would result in some sort of shock but now he was ready and as his eyelids slowly rose, he found himself in a daze as his pupils attempted to refocus themselves. Oliver’s head came to rest at an angle and he was startled by the cool touch of someone’s hand resting over his forehead. He shook his head a little and waved it off as just a daydream. Which is not a particularly good thing so he’d need to be careful not to knock himself into a daze again. Oliver inhaled and exhaled with heavy breaths and focused on the ceiling-work again. He tried to collect his thoughts, but to no avail. His mind, like much of his body, was heavy with exhaustion, clouded and muddled with its usual curiosities and was on the brink of shutting down.

Oliver’s thoughts found themselves interrupted by the disembodied whining of a seemingly female, and hopefully real, voice. She seemed rather rude, but that was the least of his problems at the moment. He was a perfect gentlemen and would deal with this woman if it meant getting that key. His mind’s usual preoccupations had made room for this moment’s necessary task. He listened as she made her way over to him, or at least tried to. Or, at least that’s what he thought she was attempting to do. Either way her crawling soon came to a stop, she seemed to be too tired to continue.

Oliver rolled over on his stomach and, after taking a few moments to catch his breath, raised himself up onto his arms to view the room. His pale, dead eyes didn’t travel very far before they rested on the very real woman before him. With a distant look about him he examined what he could about her before his eyes finally rested on her necklace. Dangling from it were three ruby red beads, different from the pearl ones that were threaded into his watchband. He also examined her form, the curve in her back and the angle at which her arms held her up indicated her extreme fatigue and her breathing indicated she was in a weaker state than usual. The odd thing about all of this? He, in his weakened state, was able to go through these observations without any interruption. He tried to concentrate as the threat of a headache began to slowly creep up on him and, to save up some energy, he lowered himself onto the floor.

His pale cheek stuck to the cool floor and he watched the reflection of his hand in the floor as it involuntarily twitched about. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as a young girl rose from the floor and skip towards him. She stopped once her feet were inches from his face and she whispered his name. Oliver. He drew his arm nearer to his body and his head came to rest against her feet. He fingered the lace work that accentuated the plain black, size 3 Mary-Janes and his eyes travelled upwards. The skirt of her dress was large enough to hide her from the torso up. He shamelessly peered up the girl’s skirt and was a little put off by the fact that all that seemed to be up there was a black mist. He quirked a brow as the fog began to expand itself from beneath the confines of her dress. She bent from the waist and clenched onto his shoulders, releasing incomprehensible whispers as her grasp tightened around him. This little girl was a monster! And she was trying to drain his life away! Or eat him...she was trying to do something, he was sure of that! Oliver kicked and shouted but his attempts to remove the girl from his person were useless.

But then he woke up.

With a jolt, Oliver rolled over into his original position and frantically tried to catch his breath. There was nothing out of the ordinary...meaning everything in the room was how he left it when he had so suddenly fallen asleep. There were no monsters, giant poisonous rivers, or little girls that wanted to kill him. He hadn’t been sleeping long enough to become a problem and was relieved to know so.

He felt as if he had spent an enormous amount of energy in those few minutes of sleep. It was most likely because he knew he had been violently convulsing in his sleep. His brow furrowed as he attempted to preoccupy his mind with the ceiling-work so that he wouldn’t fall asleep again, but he found that he could not keep his mind off of how his darkened eyelids had burned in this intense state of exhaustion. Nor the multiplied heaviness and fatigued state of his body. He couldn’t bring himself to complain but it was all too much. Again, rolling over onto his stomach, Oliver came up on all fours and eyed the woman once more.


▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
xxxxxx ⊱ ` ❝xTHE END ❞


((Yo.))

[Soggy Cheerios x]

Ｌ Ｅ Ｓ Ｅ Ｎ Ａ ☇ A True Damsel in Distress...
█████████████████████ ☠ █████████████

Everyday I Run Scared; That's The Only Way I Stay Ahead.
Everyday I Run Scared; That's The Only Way I Stay Ahead.
Everyday I Run Scared; That's The Only Way I Stay Ahead.



Lesena's eyes stayed fixed upon the female before her, the gaze mostly directed at her hands where she had produced the flames that burned her shoulder. It was odd, but mostly terrifying, to think that she was stuck in a room with someone who possessed powers she had only heard about in fairytales. Though, as much as she wanted to hate Sabre for what she had done, the girl couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration; with powers such as hers, there'd be no doubt that she'd leave this game victorious. However, such was not the case because, as Sabre had pointed out only minutes before, Lesena was mortal and obviously didn't hold any hidden talents that would help her out in her current situation.

It was just then, as she was about to respond to the flame-throwing female, that a sudden movement from the darkness behind her caught Lesena's attention; the man with the turquoise beads had awaken from his slumber (odd timing too, as Sabre was just threatening to burn his a**) and was slowly making his way towards the two of them. Neither Lesena nor Sabre had spoken a word when the man began to mutter beneath his breath and finally released a laugh that reminded the frightened female of a villian she had once seen in a movie, but those always had happy endings and she highly doubted that she'd be happy at the end of this story (if you could even call it that). The laugh reverberated off of the walls in the room, causing goose-bumps to rise upon her arms and the hair upon the back of her neck to stand on end.

He was tall and had thick red hair; his piercing yellow eyes looked straight past Sabre and drilled into Lesena's very soul as a grin began to spread across his face that screamed 'serial killer' all the way through. The jacket he wore reminded her of a knight in shining armour but she doubted by the look on his face that he was anything close to a hero... in fact, he scared her more than Sabre had. Things were really beginning to look dim for the trembling girl; it seemed as if she existed in a world where everyone was either a million times stronger than her or absolutely insane. How was she going to escape this one?

He moved closer too her, speaking in a voice that sent a second wave of fear through her body. Finally, the man acknowledged Sabre but his eyes stayed trained on the weaker of the two. He spoke of their present situation and how 'perfect' and absolutely 'obscene' it was that he found himself in a room with two women but her attention wasn't fixed on his words or his figure now... no, her eyes moved towards his hands where two balls of fire formed and danced about. For a third time the room was illuminated and he could, no doubt, see the terror in her eyes as he took another step closer. 'Does everyone in this ******** story possess the ability to create fire!?' At the thought, the burn on her arm sent a spasm of pain through her body, causing her to fall to her knees at Sabres feet, just as Emil began speaking to her. She looked up at him, her doll-like eyes meeting his as tears welled up inside of them but he hardly felt pity for her as he released one of the flaming balls of fire directly towards her face.

She waited, her arms folded over her face in a desperate attempt to protect herself, for the flames to reach her but, just as they were about to come in contact with her fragile skin, a wall of flames shot up around her, shielding the two of them from view and causing Lesena to scream in fear. The burn on her shoulder continued to burn, now ten times worse than it had before and the girl slowly began to loose herself in a fit of panic...

Her screams continued as the wall of fire dissipated into the air, returning Sabre and Emil into her sight but the tears that streamed down her cheeks reduced both of them to colorful blurs. She reached down to her side, her fingers gracefully touching the wound to her chest where the key protruded and let out another cry (this time from pain and less from fear). Her fingers trembled as she moved them away from the key, blood dripping to the ground as her body began to shake and a warm, sticky, liquid began to fill her lungs and make it's way out of her lips. Lesena gasped for air, the key twisting in her side as it tried to free itself. It slowly pushed its way out, stopping just before it would have fallen to the ground. The poor female tried to pull it out but more pain shot through her body; despite the fact that it only clung to her by a thin layer of skin, she couldn't get it to move.

"H-... Help! I-... I don't wa-... want to play th-... this game!" She screamed, her eyes moving up to meet Sabre's and then fix themselves upon Emil. One of the Onyx beads upon her wrist band began to crack, threatening to release itself if she wasn't able to calm herself; she didn't want to loose a bead, not this early on in the game. The beautiful, terrified female laid upon the floor, holding her blood soaked hands to her pulsing chest as a small stream of blood ran down her face from the corner of her lips.

[ShreddedM]

I shall eliminate with this arm,xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Everything that you hate.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Until blood flows like a river,xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Everything shall be terminated.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx『Fair』『Panicked』『The Oven』

As each hit landed adrenaline pumped through David's veins as he became more and more excited at the prospect of killing the man while at the same time he feared his own death. Surely he had felt each feeling on its own before. The car crash was enough to bring David to dribbling sobs of terror at the sight of his own arm strewn across the highway. When he had strangled that one man to death while he slept David also felt the excitement that came with the idea that that pathetic criminal was slowly dying by his hands and not in the walls of some old prison. One strike hit his opponents shoulder and the next was blocked, but it did not hinder David from following through with his goal and that was to get a grip on the back of Husani's neck. Thanks to the fact that the arm was weightless to David he was able to attack with it much faster than his dominate right arm. Now all David needed to do was keep a good grip and freeze the bastards throat shut. That was if he could..."OOF!"

Pain shot through David's right arm and side as the brass right arm of his opponent collided with him. There was definitely going to be a bruise there later in the day, but thanks to David's close proximity, odd stance, the hit he managed earlier and some dumb luck his opponent was not able to get off a full swing and thus saved David from a terribly fractured arm and set of ribs. The only thing David could think to do at this point was try to wrap his arm around the metallic like arm that had hit him and get a good hold so it couldn't be swung again. The action was more like a wild grope instead of a well trained response as David moved his arm from in between his ribcage and the opposing arm of his attacker and then tried to wrap around it like a snake.

Speaking of snakes, David's curiosity about the strange hair of his opponent was fulfilled when he felt bones breaking between his fingers and saw snakes trying to bite at his frozen left arm. Their attacks were rather pointless and did not provide much worry for David. He just needed to make sure that those damned things didn't get to close to his face. The only real hope is that the cold his arm was putting out would slow the damn cold blooded creatures down. If they were cold blooded that is. Who knew what exactly this thing was that David was fighting. He had a brass arm, scale like structure on parts of his body and snakes for hair. It was like some damn Greek mythological creature, but David didn't have time to really put that all together. A handful of snakes and the back end of Husani's neck is what David had in his hands and the freezing process was beginning. The only problem was that the three snake spines made a space between himself and a proper grip on Husani's neck.

Then David saw the sword being raised up in the left hand of his opponent. That raised an even bigger concern than the arm that had slammed into David's side. David wasn't exactly sure how swords really worked he knew that they were sharp and that was not good for David's human skin and flesh. In a moment of panic David's grip was lost around the back of Husani's neck and focused solely on the three dead snakes that were freezing in his hand from head to whatever connection they had to Husani's head. The only thing David could think to do was pull back as hard as he could. Surely if these snakes were attached to Husani's head they would force it to snap backwards from the sudden yank and expose the front of his neck. Forgetting completely about trying to hold the brass arm against his side David aimed to punch Husani in what was hopefully his freshly exposed throat and Adam's apple in a fit of panic and rage, "FAAAAAHK!" Of course compared to his left hand this punch was more on the level of an athletic human than a god's hand.

⊱ ◕ ◕ ◕ ⊰
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xxxx
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[Royal Douchebag]

〖 borders 〗 are scratched across the hearts ♥ of men
by strangers with a calm , judicial pen, ★
when the borders bleed ● ● ● we watch with dread as
the ↘ lines of ink across the map turn 『 red 』

♡ ；◕ ◕ ◕ xxxx 『 mood； Hopeful / Nervous x where； Spiked Pit room x body； Healthy 』


Zero believed that he had a decent 'person' before him. She appeared to have a head on her shoulders. "Ruri." He repeated softly to himself. The samurai never forgot a name. Nothing could be more awkward, and more rude than to forget something as simple as what someone went by. In fact, if it was one thing he did remember about a person it would be their name. Where most remember a certain feature, or something they had said, or worse... simply, "You know, that girl you met that time." People were so selfish. Were their lives so important that they couldn't remember something as little as someones title? Zero, swore to never be one of those people. On top of all of that he is an emperor, and remembering names was a very important part of the job. "I am honored to meet you, Ruri." Zero said with the utmost poise and dignity, even bowing his head to her. It was simply common courtesy, that was just how he was. If it was anything he would want someone to take from interacting with him, it would be how polite he was to them. It was a good quality to have. Most didn't have negative things to say about someone who was nice and treated them with full respect. Not that he particularly cared what others thought of him anyway, but why not? He would have offered his hand to her for a customary handshake, but who knew if her culture was different from his in that sense. It would be rude to make assumptions, and who knows? Maybe she was just waiting for an opportunity to toss him into the pit. Not that he believed she had it in her, but he never underestimated anyone. He knew enough to know that something like that would get you killed.

Suddenly he heard a shrill of grouchy fury, and was quite alarmed. [******** HELL, CAN'T A MAN HAVE SOME PEACE AND QUIET!? LAVIUS!? What in the bloody ******** is going on!?" The previously slumberous man across the room shrieked. Without even thinking Zero found his hand on the hilt of his katana, Frostbite. As tense as stone he eyed the man like a hawk. He looked formidable to Zero. Probably the, "I can handle this situation all by myself" type. He was statuesque, had skin well tanned, and looked like a rough customer. This man appeared to have experience beyond most he encountered. He had to be a warrior of some kind with lots of traveling and worldly experience under his belt. His type probably had that one exclusively specific group of allies that he trusted, and was not quick to let anyone in. "This will prove to be a challenge." Zero inwardly concluded, and it was a damn shame. Zero had a lot of respect for his type. Often having rough upbringings, but always loyal to the ones that managed to stand by them. This was all a guess, of course. "Phew, what a trip. Sure as hell ain't a prison, 'ats fer sure." The man across the way continued. Zero agreed with the mans assessment. This had to be a test, without a doubt. If it was a prison it would be a little more... livable.

This situation went from boring, to bleak, to chaotic in a matter of a few minutes. Even for Zero such mass confusion was unnerving. A boy appeared to have suddenly, and seemingly out of nowhere, fallen into the pit. Had Zero not been so distracted by the dark haired man, he would have been quick to save that boy. Luckily, he had saved himself, as any man should be able to do. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, but still, a nervous bile was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. Any more unexpected chaos threatened to send this warrior into an utter frenzy. If he needed to, he would freeze these people in time, until he could figure out how to solve this room. Their irritation was worth a lot less than their lives. "Excuse me. Do either of you have any idea where we are?" The boy asked. Zero frowned, disappointed in himself. What could you explain to a young kid in such a situation? He wouldn't dare make it look like any one could die at anytime, he didn't have that in him. He was soon assisted by the burly man anyways, for now Zero could think. "Throwing something at that button is the only way. One would like to assume that it had to a person, but no human life is worth more than others. Maybe one of us carries a certain object that should be sacrificed to the pit?" Zero pondered to himself.

Zero peered into the pit again. The spikes gave him an icy glare as they haunted the depths of the pit. Why did this have to be so damn morbid? Couldn't a god test them without being so frightening? The piercing metal blades stood around the button menacingly, they were only slightly spaced apart, so if an object were to be thrown it would have to be small, or at least skinny. That was when the lovely Ruri had turned to him, "so, any ideas of what to do? Because I’m at a total loss for ideas.” She asked in a steady voice. It appeared to him as if she had really caught her cool. He admired that. Woman were very brave creatures when they needed to be. They were more often than not, very intelligent as well. Zero was elated to have her cooperation. "Oi there, hot-shot," The powerful looking man called out. Zero couldn't be sure if he was talking to him, but he raised his head from the pit and looked at him directly. He smirked politely and nodded his head for him to continue, it was clear he had something on the matter to say. "Don't s'pose you got any clues as to what's going on here? I dunno 'bout you folks, but them spikes down there sure as hell don't look too friendly ta me." The man spewed in a strong accent. Zero hadn't noticed it before, it was a quite unique drawl. Most would interpret as sounding almost... uneducated. Not Zero though, this man knew a lot. Maybe even more than he was letting on. That was besides the point though.

It became clear to Zero that nobody had any idea what was going on. It was time for Zero to be more articulate on what he now understood. "Lady and gentlemen. We are trapped here as a test. A test of our character, morals, and wits." Zero began smoothly. He removed his hands from his sword and raised them to the group. "I have nothing to hide from any of you. We are all equals in this situations. We stand together not as people, but as pawns." It was sad but true, he sighed as he lowered his arms to his sides."This is just a large mind game. I believe the answer to our escape is the button below us." Zero pointed to the very object as he said it. "Now! All we need to do is toss something onto it. I'm under the impression that one of us carries something of value upon our person. This Drosselmeyer wants to see if our greed exceeds our integrity." Zero concluded and then continued, "We are not dogs. We are men!" He smiled warmly to the group. "I openly volunteer to be the first person to act upon this idea. Maybe we can get a sense of trust if we just work together." With that Zero pulled off of his chest a very shiny, very valuable, very important object. It was worth a fortune and happened to be a very special family heirloom. He brought it to his face and looked at it for a moment, oh how it glittered and glistened as he rotated it in the dim light. "This means nothing to you, but everything to me." He stated as he readied himself to toss it into the pit.

"A little dizzying, isn't it? I don't know if the hole has gotten bigger or the room has gotten smaller... Something's got to give before you all take a nasty spill. What's keeping you, Paris? Just push the goat into the hole like you've been so deviously plotting."

Zero was caught off guard by the booming voice of the God of the game. Drosselmeyer had the worst timing in this scenario, the jolt of his booming voice, the movement of the floor, it all led to ruining Zero's toss. Since he had been against the wall, he did not lose his footing, but stared grimly into the now larger than life pit. His throw was utter garbage. Completely ruined, and he had loss something valuable for no reason at all. You would think that is what he cared about currently, but you would be wrong. He brought full attention to the men of the room. "Which one of you is Paris?" Zero questioned in a bummed out sort of tone. No anger showed, but great disappointment radiated from his person. The warrior shook his head when he realized it didn't matter. His words were going to be completely wasted if he didn't get through to these people. "The God ruined my toss, perhaps one of you with better aim could take a shot at my idea." Zero sighed, defeated. "Please don't throw Ruri in the pit. She is a nice girl and it would be a terribly pointless waste." Zero pressed his right hand over his heart and raised his left hand. "To you men, on this day, I solemnly swear that if my idea fails to get us anywhere after several attempts..." He proudly stated his last words, "I will sacrifice myself to the pit for my failure, my wasting your time, and for your freedom." He shrugged his shoulders and lowered his hands. "Now you all have nothing to lose if you just give my idea a try. It is all I ask. He concluded. He was very hopeful at this time. These men were strangers, but they weren't stupid. All they had to do was try and hit the button, and if it didn't work they would get out anyway. Zero was nervous, for if he was wrong it would cost him a bead, and a very painful death.

[Gurulee]

►L ι L ι α η α xxxxxxxxxxxx►ġ α я c ι α

m yxx n a m exxi sxxt h exxm o s txxp r e c i o u sxxt h i n gxxt oxxm e .


► Team Ruby ◄

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xxxx Liliana was almost overcome with joy upon seeing the door. Honestly, she didn't think she'd get this excited to see only half of their challenge completed, but she couldn't let herself become too overjoyed. She had to keep her head on straight and her strategy mode switched on in order to fulfill her wish. She was becoming increasingly serious, however, as she racked through all her options in this situation, and she pondered for a moment the lethal trickery she had in store; it wasn't long before she decided not to use that this early in the game, also considering she only used trickery on enemies, and she wasn't one to make her enemies her fake allies. Although the girl was smart, and also a very sly gamer, she was against anything so immoral as to tricking her enemy into thinking their her friend, and vise verse.

xxxx Liliana couldn't help voicing her best game strategy. To make for best time, they'd have to split up and break open capsules, no matter how the waste will build. It seemed like their best and only sane option, and Liliana wasn't one to be afraid of putting this into words, especially since she'd gone back into strategy mode long since. The butterfly listened carefully to the sound of plastic glee coming out of his plastic face and couldn't help but feel some healthy remorse. It was obvious he was either a terrible actor, he was being sarcastic, or Liliana was simply good at seeing through others. It was most likely a mixture of all three.

xxxx Liliana had been mentaly convincing herself this man wasn't all bad, just a little off when he wiped his filthy hands on her clothing. She wasn't mad about the clothes, per say; she'd come from a poor motel room with nothing but an over-sized t-shirt and denim shorts, but it simply irked her that he had simply no regard for her as a human being, but simply as another commoner to his kingdom. Perhaps not even a commoner, but a servant, due to the fact a king would never treat his own citizen like this. It was then when it hit her: a nickname and a flashback. All in one, of course.

xxxx Liliana sat in her room, writing a note to her family. No, not her family, her mother. 'Dear Marie,' Liliana had long since calling her mother "mama" as she had as a girl,
'Dear Marie,
I'm so sorry to be a loose link in the family. I understand your trauma, though. You make the excuse that I don't have enough Latino culture, but I understand, Marie, really. It's hard for you, to have an inhuman daughter. The more I write this letter, the more it sounds like another angsty family sob story you read in current novels where a teen is is some mutant or something. I'm babbling, aren't I?

The point here, Marie, is that I'm moving on. This isn't meant to make you or the family feel terrible, nor I'm I particularly hurt by leaving. Sure, it's a little odd, but I think this is benefiting us all, no? Don't worry about me, I've got everything I need; I've even just recently gained a job. It should bring enough profit for a motel in the least for a while. I'll be fine.

~For the last time, this is not coming from your Little Latino Girl, but you bisexual, butterfly daughter. '

xxxx Liliana folded the paper and smiled to herself. She had freed herself. It was the start of a new adventure she'd been waiting to build the balls to do for years. Just as shew as leaving, her mother came in from the garden; dirt on her hands and knees, her brown hair pulled back. Liliana had tried to dodge their meeting by hiding in her room once more, or climbing out the window; it was all too late, though. Her mother walked up to her, opening her mouth to ask her something that instantly seemed minimal to the bags in front of the girl's room, leaving the space practically bare.

"You are not leaving this house, joven, we've had this discussion." The woman was visibly growing red, and although she'd kept her cool vocally, it was obvious it wasn't long until she blew completely, and Liliana wasn't sticking around to see it when she did. Quickly, she grabbed all the bags she could before her mother was pulling on her shirt everywhere tangible, smearing the garden dirt all over Liliana, trying to stop her. It wasn't quick enough that the girl made it out of the house, into the motel, and to her new life. That had been five years ago, before The Society had come after her.

xxxx Liliana blinked away the memory, just in time to hear the man's last thoughts on the situation, commenting about his d**k at some point. She blinked a few time, probably imitating a deer caught in headlights for a while, until she snapped mentally back to the room she had been standing in. She focused mentally on his threat then, becoming yet again like a dear caught in headlights.

xxxx "JODERJODERJODERJODER...." The girl trailed off as she caught the memo and frantically began opening capsules, gagging whenever an exceptionally foul smell came upon her nose, but otherwise getting down and dirty with the job.










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► м σ σ ∂ ◄ Disgusted/Panicked
► L σ c α т ι σ η ◄ A foul room indeed.
► в ε α ∂ s ◄ ◕ ◕ ◕

[MurderFairy]

eat lick bite suck squish

There was so much light, and it was cool and blue. Such moonlight could cause one great happiness or great fear, for the mouse in brown coat and pink glove it caused indifference. He scurried and pitter pattered across the floor delicately, paws leaving prints in the dust looking for food or life. However what the mouse found was something lifeless, however not so edible. The creature was starved however so a quick testing nibble would do no harm. Crawling atop what seemed to be a black mary jane shoe it crawled until finding what could possibly be exposed 'skin'. A quick nibble into an appendage caused a jerk reaction from the creature. It shook and rattled, dust flying from its shoulders and legs. A dusty cough between paled pink lips, a faded color covered face and skin causing the flushed pink color of her skin to fold and flex as it felt life come into it. She stretched out her legs, hearing the pops of 'bones' and then went to her arms. The mouse, horrified, ran for its life however she caught it by the tail and examined it, glassy bulbous eyes rotating and peering. "Thank you." she murmured and with each word came a puff of dust. She let go and went back to examining herself. Raising herself from the rickety wooden floor she found an odd smell, turning swiftly she realized what she had been sitting next to.

*****************************************************************************************

The bones, there were many and so frail in appearance. No trace of flesh, eyes gone cheeks sunken to nothing but a soft sheet of flesh and hair, there were cottony strands and tufts but nothing else. The clothes seemed to be not so torn or ruined, in fact they were in well condition besides two odd holes in one and another in the other, both right in the chest towards the left. She keeled down to examine more closely but as her fingers came to brush away the dust of the more feminine ones face the jaw dropped to a crumble and moths seemed to flutter from out of nowhere. It made her fall back, however her bottom struck something hard, and whatever it was rolled away to the corner. On all fours, in white, now brown tights she crawled, rubbing and thumping at the floor until she grasped what seemed to be a...well she did not know what it was. She sat down and began to inspect it, brushing away the dust that began to fill her nostrils so heavily. She looked a bit closer and eventually found some writing, two names. They looked so foreign to her. "Cherry and Monique?" she mumbled and tossed it about in her head, then looked quickly to the remains of the woman. Her mind it, beat itself trying to find the answer to this unknown question. She ran about the room, searching and caused quite a ruckus. Finally, in a broken sliver on the floor she found a reflection. In the mirror she felt her face, soft and cold. Pressing her lips together she puffed up her cheeks, smiled, and even stuck her tongue out at this reflection. Looking once more towards the deceased she began to breathe rapidly. "...Mommy?" Cherry choked on the word however managed to swallow it whole in a gasping pain. She scurried back over to the bodies and grasped at the females body, her mother. It fell apart, nearly instantly. "Nooo..." she cooed to herself in a raspy sad voice. "I have failed you!" she collapsed and shook violently. Her parts seemed ready to separate. "Cherry. Cherry Cherry." that's who she was and she finally remembered it all. Everything came to her memory once again and it flooded in all so quickly it caused her head to spin however she recovered swiftly. "Remember?" she spoke to herself attempting reassurance. "Why do you do this, you have no emotions remember that. It is important. It will help you, you were made for this. you can still save them." she had started, speaking to herself, however eventually the words were no longer hers, her lips moved but not to her will.

*****************************************************************************************

Cherry jumped up, confused as her mouth continued to move, without her control. She brought her hands to attempt to stop this madness however her teeth came together across her skin and she was forced to continue to listen. "You still have a chance, to fulfill your destiny. Just trust me, trust me." the voice slowly morphed from her soft feminine coo of a voice into a harsh raspy whisper. "I want to play a game with you, all you have to do is win this game. Win this game and you get your mommy back, you get whatever you want back and everything will be back to normal. One wish, that is the prize. Just play my game...and survive!" the voice dispersed and a chuckle was heard. Before Cherry could ask any questions an iron chest screeched and moaned across the floor, not far from her. She walked over to it, hesitantly, knees still cracking from the lack of movement. Her fingers stuck into the chest, it was heavy however she managed to pry it open and the air exploded from inside it, covering her in warmth. She felt as though hands, hot and welcoming attempted to pull her in. She wanted to let them pull her in, welcome her, she felt the sadness escape her for a moment. However before she could become a part of this new world, inside the chest, the bat with her mothers name next to hers came flying right into her palms. With a slight smile she fell into the chest, headfirst, the lid closing behind her.

*****************************************************************************************

Cherry was enveloped in the warmth for some time as she feel, fingers and palms crawling across her skin. It was delightful and oh so swell. She grabbed at the hands, the fingers intertwining with hers and she felt connected to them for a moment, as though the strings that held together her body were suddenly tied to them as well. It was blissful and nauseating! She let out a squeal of happiness, however suddenly everything felt moist, and cold. The warm air was gone and replaced with muck. Standing now it seemed, her moment of complete happiness vanished and was replaced with surprise. She felt squishy, and covered in filth. Inhaling deeply she took in the stench and it was quick to attack her senses. Shaking her head violently she opened Cherry eyes wide, taking in all that was around her. Holding up her hands, pale palms now with sludge running down the sides. Knee deep in mystery filth she was missing the embrace of the hands. "Where...where is mommy?" she looked around and it took her some time to realize that she was not alone. There were others in that room. The first thing she noticed was a shiny yellow man who was covered in muck and seemed to be making a bit of a scene. And then he just began to glare at her out of nowhere. "Ow?" she ignored his aggression for she could not feel it, at all actually.

*****************************************************************************************

"G-glare? Hmm..." she attempted then to imitate him and suddenly began laughing at him for he looked rather silly. But he became unimportant as one of the girls found a door. "Key. Find the key." she said aloud in a candy cane voice almost too girly for even her. "Find the key!" she squeaked a with a little more volume. She dove into the muck, going past her elbows she searched, she even kicked off her shoes and put them in her pocket, so her toes could feel around as well. And then she began digging. It was quite a scene, buckets of sludge went flying everywhere as she searched furiously for the capsules, it ceased for a moment as she grabbed a capsule, she felt a huge tinge of excitement and broke it open, however it was empty. Only for a moment, did she feel disappointment. However frustration quickly caught her. The room was becoming even more filled with sludge. Not just that, but she also realized that two others in the room were doing nothing. In fact they were chatting. The clockwork and wires inside of Cherry went crazy for a moment and her face, which was meant to be forever pleasant, suddenly cracked into a frown. Her cheeks filled with red and her nose turned pink.

*****************************************************************************************

Strolling over to the two, without much struggle Cherry looked up to them and stood there silently for a moment. The yellow man and the other female who now had a muddy chest seemed to be in some kind of odd conversation involving d**k. "...d**k?" she did not know what it was but she was sure it did not matter at the moment. "Um, I think your suppose to help. If you don't we um, I think we die. See watch!" she held up an empty capsule to their faces and crushed it in between peach colored fingers. A dark gas escaped from between the debris and the mud crawled up a little, touching their knees but for someone as small as her, it reached the hem of her dress and surrounded her thighs. "But the man, he told me, he told me if you don't help I should kill you. But I, I think we need you alive ya know so we can get through this stuff!" she ended the last part raising up her muddy hands. The girl, it seemed, who had a nice blue glow to her, began frantically looking. At least she cared about their lives.

Confused but I am so excited!

Entering the game! Mucky gross room here I come!

3 bead

OOC:Cherry is here ya old farts

[Lady Kiptcha]

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XXXXXXX[/colore]紗蔓冴 - Ｓ Ｏ Ｌ Ａ Ｒ ＩＳ
██████████████████████████████████████████████

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ◜ ❦◝ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
－ － － － － － － － － － － － － － － － － － － － － － － － － －

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxＡｌｌ ｔｈｅ ｐｌａｃｅｓ ｉ＇ｖｅ ｂｅｅｎ
x✗ ✗xaɴᴅxｔｈｉｎｇｓxxxι ' v exseeɴ
xxxxxxxＡ ＭＩＬＬＩＯＮ ｓｔｏｒｉｅｓx✗ ✗xx

xxxxxxxx↘x↘xxx● ● ●xxxThat made upx✗ ✗xxx╱xx╱xxａ ｍｉｌｌｉｏｎ
ｓｈａｔｔｅｒｅｄ ＤＲＥＡＭＳxxx☠

Her sabatons made an awful hiss as she skidded backwards on the rock underfoot, the metal in them not finding purchase despite the little ridges of metal that passed for tread, the rubber that was supposed to be there already long worn off. Her opponent screamed piercingly out of rage, refocusing its yellow slits for eyes on the small bodied han-yoma. Solaris was not particularly worried about her situation; her face betrayed no emotion towards the event at all. Perhaps it was a splendid act, perhaps it was honestly what she felt—it was hard to tell. She was ranked 4th in the Organization, and once you rose above 10th, none of the warriors seemed to have normal human emotions. But they weren’t even human anymore. How could you expect them to behave like normal humans anyway?

Her opponent today was a former warrior undergoing the cruel eventuality of their kind—Awakening. She had no pity for her though, even though they had shared similar paths in life. If anything, it made her colder. Another growl tore its way past the awakened being’s throat, and her body cracked awfully, transforming into the restrained monster they had been grafted with. Solaris reached up to the smooth lack handle of her claymore, unsheathing it with a gentle tug. The heavy metal was honed razor sharp, and it sliced through the air with a whine as she brought it down experimentally, despite its mass. Carved a hand’s length down the blade from the hilt was her warrior identification symbol, a vertical line overlaid with a regular pentagon. The same symbol was embossed in silver on black fabric right above the v of her neck. The rest of her attire was similarly black, cloaking her entire torso and arms with the black resistive fabric that almost seemed like it was lightly fused with the skin. Sabatons, a slightly high-heeled metal boot, encased her feet; vambraces, a large fort of metal wrist-guard, supported her thin wrist; and a fauld, a partial metal skirt, clinked gently around her waist.

All of the heavy metal looked like it should have weighed the small girl down, but her former comrade lunged again, and Solaris flitted away, demonstrating almost impossible agility in the situation. The former warrior had been number 5, a close friend of Solaris. They had been through nearly everything together. And now, at the end, Solaris had been called to stop her from wreaking her havoc upon the humans they were supposed to protect. That’s what it came down to in the end. If you tired to think about it, it made less and less sense, but in essence, they had sold their souls to humanity. The destruction and pain that it brought them was cruel and unfeeling. Because she would be a threat, Solaris had been called to kill her. It was Solaris’ duty to do so, and she was forbidden to run from it. What sort of friend killed a friend impassively?

Solaris briefly considered walking away. What difference would it make to her? The Organization wouldn’t send out a party of warriors to hunt her friend down until her friend started feasting upon human innards and the town she was preying on sent in a request of removal. That was the sick part—the Organization sold awakened ones as some older or more powerful yoma, not a warrior that had lost control. It was a winning situation for them, after all. They lost a warrior, but they were repaid tenfold by the people who wanted it gone, even though it was the Organization’s responsibility in the first place. “Tch,” murmured Solaris, moving to sheath her sword. She wouldn’t do this. Even though her friend had lost control, it was still her friend. It wasn’t fair to ask Solaris to kill her.

“No, you have to kill me,” the warrior ground out, her voice gravelly with her transformation. “What I’m becoming isn’t your friend. I’ll try to kill you. That’s why I want you to end this before it’s too late. I want to die your friend, not your enemy.”

There was a soft woosh and a crunch of gravel as Solaris touched down just a few feet behind her friend. “You always were too sentimental, Ivy.” Her other foot made a crunch as she put it down, then slinging the blood off the large blade with a flick of her wrist. The splat against the ground was the only noise for a long moment. She didn’t look back, scared of what she’d see. That she’d see what she had just done. Instead, she looked down, the spine impaled through her heart slowly starting to ache. It had been her friend’s obsession. Poisons. The ache sparked into a flame, and then it was burning. Solaris reached up to put her hand over the wound, pulling out the barb to leave a bloody hole. Her sword clattered as it hit the ground, dirt clinging to the clean metal.

Solaris turned, staring up at the disfigured body of a former warrior with a sad look. Vines seem to dart in all directions, tipped with toxin, crawling and spreading leaves. The smiling face of her friend looked down at her with almost blissful happiness even as the vines crawled up Solaris’ legs, piercing the skin to contaminate the flesh. “Thank you,” the monster whispered, a single tear running down her human face as her head slipped sideways and fell to the ground with a dull thud. A small breezed picked at Solaris’ dark hair, lifting single strands and playing with them briefly. Solaris felt her body trying to reject the poison and heal, but Solaris had no will left to get better. She wrenched her legs free, cutting deep gouges down her legs for her struggle, and walked over to her sword. Solaris picked it up and hefted it over her shoulder. It made a soft click as she sheathed it, sliding easily into its place, locking there to prevent it from dislodging during travel. Her chest was filled with searing pain, and she placed a hand over the hole, feeling warm blood drip around her hand.

She didn’t stop to heal herself though, picking up her friend’s sword and using it to chop what was left of her body into pieces. Blood dripped from her own wound, and she was short of breath, but she managed a shallow grave and placed the sword just above where the head was buried as a proper burial marker for her kind. Red drops wet the surface of the grave, and Solaris sunk to her knees, a deadness in her eyes as she looked at that sword with an oh so familiar mark. It was the injustice of this life that she had chosen. No matter what Solaris did though, she couldn’t put her grief into a physical manifestation though, and no tears fell from her eyes. The only thing that remained was an anger that alighted along with the pain. Solaris didn’t care what happened after this, it was all her mind finally been spoken. If she managed to survive, she would make sure the Organization felt her pain. The searing in her chest rose again suddenly, and her world went suddenly black, her mind escaping to the mazes and pathways it has.

The rules of the game seemed like a distant whisper to the han-yoma, and she listened and recorded it in her memory, but the overlying confusion still lingered. A wish? What would she wish for, an unfortunate soul that had lost everything. Wish for it back? That wouldn’t solve anything. But yet, the temptation of getting anything she could desire drew her in, and she consented to learn about this game she would play to win this wish. She had a team, she had multiple tries. And whoever this was has some crazy talk about being an author—about writing. Solaris didn’t understand, so she calmly let it all go, waiting for it to end or keep going.

"Operation! Don't touch the sides... zap! Butterfingers! Some of you might remember that game. Some of you might've been terrible at it. Wake up now and look at what I've got for you. The key is inside the sickest patient in this room. Let the operating begin! Keep in mind, there are more patients that meet the eye. Have you figured this dirty game of doctor out yet? "

And then suddenly she was awake, and her last physical memory bloomed to life. She shrieked and leaped off the surgical table, panic in her eyes and a slowly ebbing pain in her chest. Her hands clutched at a nonexistent wound, and she stared down at them, like she was expecting to see blood seeping through the black fabric, but none appeared. Her breathing was panicked, and she clawed at her chest, trying to find out why she was still feeling a dull pain. Heartbeats echoed in her ears, and a new pain settled in as she stopped breathing, looking around at her surroundings. An operating room. Her blood raced, her face paled. Her hand was on her sword hilt and then it was slicing through the table she had been laying on, carving the metal cleanly in two with a sword that looked too heavy for her thin arm to wield. There were others, she saw. She took a step, the sabatons shrieking loudly as they slid a little on the tile floor. Had the Organization gotten her? Had they known she’d turn on them? Things raced through her mind, trying to fit the situation. What would they do to her? Cut her apart like some test subject? There were others—who were they? What was their purpose here? Would the organization also do something to them? Most of them looked human though, Solaris couldn’t allow the Organization to be killing humans at a whim…

She observed her purlieu with barely restrained panic, not really understanding what she was looking at for a moment. After her initial reaction, she had froze when she had landed to try to figure out what was going on. There were others that were awake, and her confused gaze landed on them in turn, trying to piece together what all this was. First, there was a redheaded man with a peach, for one. He looked friendly enough, a slight smile on his lips, offering the woman next to him the fuzzy fruit. She had white hair, and a very human look. Neither of them looked like they belonged to the Organization.

Solaris let out a breath. This was the game that she was playing. That she’d agreed to. Not some horror story of the Organization. She relaxed, replacing her sword and surveying the damage. So these were the people who they had to search for the “key.” What an odd game. She looked around, noticing that none of these people really fit into anything the organization would touch anyway. They were all dead looking too, and Solaris walked over to one to prod at it. She looked over at the two people again, seeing both of them wearing a small bracelet with three beads that glinted turquoise. They were on the same team. She nodded and looked down at her own wrist. Same team as her. Would they like her? They seemed so different.

Instead of approaching to meet them she looked around the room, seeing a tray of scalpels and various other objects, tables, and lifeless patients. She winced when she looked at the remains of her own table, seeing that she had clearly overreacted. But wasn’t she somewhat justified in it? Solaris ran a hand through her back hair before adjusting her outfit. Her hands kept straying to her chest and what felt like a gaping hole, but she could find none. Was she sad? She didn’t know. When was the last time the han-yoma had lost someone? She couldn’t recall really. She was too far lost to really keep emotional track anymore. It all had blended into endless days of feeling nothing. She did what she was asked to do. She was good at that.

Another glance towards her “team,” what she had termed them for lack of a better word. They weren’t allies yet, they weren’t friends, nor were they comrades. They were her team. Would they work with her? As a warrior, she didn’t mingle with normal humans often. She wasn’t sure what to do even. She rocked gently on her heels before returning to the wreakage of her table and sitting down on the cold tile beside it.

. . . . okay? what now? ╱ Operating Room ╱ ● ● ●

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxI'm swimmiηg in ʈhε smokε oʄ bridgεs I have burηεdxxxxxxxxxx

[Titty McNipples]

【BLACK ♡ AND BLUE】
xxxxxxxxxx I'm permanently black and blue for you xxxx I'm permanently black and blue for you
xxxxxxxxxx I'm permanently black and blue for you xxxx I'm permanently black and blue for you
xxxxxxxxxx I'm permanently black and blue for you xxxx I'm permanently black and blue for you
█████████████████████████ ✖ ████████████
❝ xxx i xxtried xxto xxdo xxhandstands xxfor xxyou

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx ▀ ₀₁x tummy gutted ;; interrogative
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx ▀ ₀₂x "ice cream!" ;; key is in the corpse

【BLACK ♡ AND BLUE】
xxxxxxxxxx I'm permanently black and blue for you xxxx I'm permanently black and blue for you
xxxxxxxxxx I'm permanently black and blue for you xxxx I'm permanently black and blue for you
xxxxxxxxxx I'm permanently black and blue for you xxxx I'm permanently black and blue for you
█████████████████████████ ✖ ████████████
❝ xxx i xxtried xxto xxdo xxhandstands xxfor xxyou
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx everytimexx ixx fellxx forxx you

xxx ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

▐█ ░░▐████████████ x{ ◕ ◕ }

❝xxxxxxxxxxx{x` his little whispers━ x}
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
███████████ xx"love me, love me." ◞
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx it's all I ask for. love me, love me.



There comes a point when you don't have any voice left to scream with, not even inside your head. Bemoaning and bewailing his sad fortune did little to spare him, but he was too young of a child to accept that his blatant and underlying problems couldn't be solved through Drosselmeyer's mercy and a stranger's pity. His throat and abdominals simultaneously clenched, shuddering involuntarily as if sobbing. Whenever his muscles tightened the jagged key wedged inside him irritated the soft, decomposing flesh that lined his stomach. His screams subsided and the boy focused on the silent pain and fear. The moment he heard the voices in the room he finally became a conscious, breathing part of them. Not actively, but he felt their presence and acknowledged them as people just like him, give or take a few minor details. "I'm so sorry." The little girl's voice sounded so sweet and kind. How long has it been since he's played with another living child? A child who wasn't repulsed by him? Even in life Sacha had few friends save for the nurses who monitored him and the nice teachers who helped him with his speech and behavior. The boy wrinkled his nose and breathed in slightly, assuming that girls brought a strong scent of flowers wherever they went. Instead of flowers, Sacha was greeted with a foul odor. What on Earth was that horrible stink?

YEOWCH! An intense pain surged through the boy's middle causing him to inwardly yowl in agony. Why was the nice little girl hurting him!? 'STOP! STOP! STOPP!' he frantically pleaded, hoping to communicate with Addison through sheer force of will. Murky black tears threatened beneath his closed eyelids. 'Pl-ee-eeease... S-sssstoooop...! Plllease!!' the corpse sobbed. After fanatically clawing at his insides the girl's hands retracted, taking the discomfort with them, as well as their living warmth. A metallic word pushed itself into his head, where it echoed like a tin can kicked against the wall of an abandoned warehouse. "His blood... It's on my hands..." Blood. His blood had been emptied out on his living room floor many years ago, and yet, somehow, he still had a drop to spare. The little boy was scared again. He didn't want to bleed. If he bleeds that means that someone had hurt him. Blood meant death and red meant killer. Sacha didn't want to die. He didn't want anyone to hurt him. He just wanted to go back home and watch all his favorite movies with his parents the way he used to. Big, heavy tears flooded from beneath his eyelids and dampened his achromatic cheeks. Sacha desperately needed big hug and a kiss for his booboos now more than ever. His heart wrenched and his stomach clenched firmly around the key as his body succumbed to silent, pitiful weeping.

“Wait, WAIT! He‘s alive!”

A melancholy sense of appreciation effloresced when a second voice confirmed what Sacha had disillusioned himself to be true. Through dry sobbing the boy shouted: 'Y-yes, yes! I'm alive! P-pleassse! Help me!' Words were exchanged before a gentle touch graced Sacha's shoulder. Raphael Preverell? The boy wasn't good with names. He had already forgotten the actual name and memorized "Ralph." Ralph was a policeman, an authority figure that children were conditioned to trust. Policemen, firefighters, superheroes and for some reason, mailmen, were all marked in the same category. How childishly inaccurate and absurd; Sacha put all his trust and faith in Ralph fully and immediately. The man assured the child that the key was what was keeping him trapped like this and he was going to have to take it out. The little boy didn't want that at all. Not only did it hurt, but it was just... something he couldn't understand. It didn't feel right; in a bad and scary way. Unfortunately, Sacha had no choice. Not only was he unable to stop this, but non-compliance meant he would be stuck this way forever. Neither a yes or no was given before a cold hand sunk into the clean incision marked in his decaying body. At this point, Sacha might've preferred it if the key was ripped out violently. Ralph being gentle was unnerving because the child wasn't sure when the hurt was going to come. If anything, it soothed the pain he received previously; much like pressing down on a hangnail.

"I tell you what kid, if we get out of this room, I owe you an ice cream, whaddaya say?"

How easily children are bribed out of the stickiest of situations. Sacha hasn't had an ice cream cone in over thirteen years now a long time now, and a child without ice cream is alot like a unicorn without rainbows. It just shouldn't happen. The boy tried really really hard to relax, and then he tried really really hard to stop trying. The key was soon removed and proper feeling and movement returned to all of Sacha's limbs. The child's body slowly animated as if he were casted into a cheap horror movie. Finger after finger, followed by light rolling of arms and legs. Suddenly, just as if the boy had never existed, he had vanished and left only a small puddle of blood in his wake. Crack! The sound of a bullet whizzed through the room... but in Sacha's actively delusional little mind it sounded like... well, anything really. Imagination is the only thing that's real, the rest is just... imaginary! Haha! Funny how that works, huh? To Sacha is sounded a lot like an ice cream truck. The sound of a gun firing off was just too much for his little boy brain to bear at the moment, so he substituted that reality for his own. The little boy's ghost form glided across the air before become visual (albeit, intangible) a few inched from Raphael's frightened face. The selfish little boy didn't give a fiddler's ******** what sort of mood Raphael was in. As long as his mind was focused on the ice cream, not even his blood on that girl's hands could phase him (as long as he isn't reminded of it...)

"HI, I'M SACHA!" the boy bellowed with a childlike cheerfulness. The volume of his voice was unnecessarily loud for the given situation. It echoed off the walls and even rung in his own ears. The boy had difficulty controlling the fluctuating volume of his voice, even at home. It was the sort of thing he didn't notice until it was pointed out. "Sacha with a C and an H not with an S because an S is for a girl's name and I'm not a girl! Hey. Hey. HEY. Are you even listening? Y u look so sad? Hey? Ralph? Wassa matter, mister??" The true intentions of the boy's sympathy were quickly revealed. With eyes wide and lips furled into a pout, Sacha inquired: "Does this mean I'm not gonna get any ice cream? I was good and YOU SAID!" The decayed and half-spiritual figuring floating around in front of Raphael puffed up his cheeks and folded his arms firmly across his chest. "You said... and if you don't then that just makes you a liar liar pants for hire." The ghost was soon interrupted by a short spasm of violent coughs, hard enough to dislodge his eyeball from his socket. "Excuse me...." he sweetly pardoned before masking the eye with his hand and inconspicuously pushing it back into place. "I want a cookie dough sundae in a waffle cone. A SUGAR waffle cone. In a bowl! With hot fudge! And syrup! and skittles! And whipped cream! AND A CHERRY! YOU SAID, RALPH! YOU SAID." He did say. B| "...and then I want you to bring me back home, okay? I miss my parents and I want to go home." Still oblivious to his condition and his surroundings, the boy's gaze transfixed to Raphael's face as if turning his head meant death. Sacha's mind was already working in overtime to suppress what he'd just experienced. Little businessmen in his brain were already trying to file it under the category of "things that didn't happen." Needless to say, it's a pretty full file cabinet.

[The Soulless Puppet]

┍ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxxxx ┑
staring back at you → ✷ ← staring back at me
( INSIDE OUR OWN CLOSED OFF WORLD )
┕ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxxxx ┙

"What's it like to die alone?" Aito questioned. The poor boy just laid there in a pool of his own blood, wallowing in his self pity. Smiling slightly, he looked up at the beautiful sky. It had such a serene and joyous feel to it. At least he could die under the peaceful sky with his last visual of the sky. Aito began to think, it was like he was losing his memory. Everything was fading to black. How did this even happen? How did he end up here in the grass, soaking up his own blood and tainted green with red. This wasn't right. Aito realized it wasn't right and became full of his bewilderment. Aito knew he had a power to heal himself but what could inflict him with such an unsealable wound? What the hell was happening? Then it all hit him like a wave and his good moment soon turned bad, like dying was a good thing anyways. That's right... That's how it happened...

Aito was walking along listening to his favorite playlist on the recent iPod and eating ice cream. The kid was taking a day off looking for his sister and was just enjoying the moment. Even though he was attempting to enjoy his moment, it wasn't going as good as he thought. In the back of his mind he knew this was not how things should be. He was a sixteen year old, almost seventeen, with no family. Pretty shitty. No matter though, he was use to it by now. As he was walking along he noticed someone behind him was watching. Watching every step, every movement. Aito picked up the pace but no matter how fast he went the man was just a couple of steps behind. Soon enough he took off in a full dart and turned, hoping to shake him. It didn't work. Not long after it turned into a full out chase. Then there it was. The man stuck him in the leg with a knife, bringing him to his knees. Then he grabbed a fist full of Aitos hair, yanking it, and shot him in the heart. "Let's see you heal yourself out of that one," the man snickered and then shoved him to the ground, leaving him to die. No one seemed to noticed. No one seemed to care. The little boy deserved some pity before his death, doesn't he?

"So that's how it happened..." Aito accepted the fact that he did not know the name or face of his murderer. Tears simply swelled in the youths eyes, accepting his death no matter the mystery. Even though he shouldn't die, it was time. For too long had he sinned and now this was Gods punishment. At least the punishment of the God that Aito had long forgotten and had cursed his name since the time of his existence. Whomever was looking down upon Aito, it must be true that they wished for his death seeing as how... Well, he was laying in a pool of blood. The pain though, the pain was numbing throughout his body. The pain felt perfectly fine. "Dross, allow me to play the Game," Aito said before closing his eyes. The boy honestly did not know if he died but he believed he was brought to the Game by his death. There was no doubt in his mind, but he also came here by his own will, which is what made him unsure. Did he pass over to the game or did he wish to play before his death? Guess he wouldn't know until he won, which he did have every intention in doing so.

Aito was hit with a migraine as he woke up, which can't be taken lightly. Unable to decipher where he was until a few minutes after, he heard booming voices. They were only loud because everything seemed loud, even his own breathing. Attempting to open his eyes, Aito quickly shut them tight, unable to stand the light that barely shown through. Taking a moment to himself, Aito got out of his daze. Feeling a bit groggy still, he noticed the room. A cell? Had he gone to jail? Then he realized it didn't look like a modern day jail cell. It looked like those ones you see in the movies. Old and rickety, but still sturdy. Soon after realizing his surroundings, Aito noticed that the voices weren't just in his head. There were people. Drosselmeyer's voice constantly replayed in his head as he was waking up saying, "The key to success is often the ability to adapt. When suddenly locked up in a fusty old prison cell the common reaction would be to feel a little bitter about the ordeal. How about wearing a smile? The biggest and brightest grin you can muster! Not to mention, a bit of compassion. The key to getting out of this cell is dangling on the collar of my good friend and he's not going to respond to you if you shout at him. I assure you, this is the only way out. Rise and shine ~" Was he mocking him? Just the way he said it pissed Aito off to no end.

For awhile, Aito laid there motionless to appear as if he had no awoken. He didn't know whom he was locked up with and decided to take everything in before he decided to act. From what he gathered he was stuck in a room with a male and a female. The others haven't seemed to wake up quite yet. When he thought it was safe, Aito stood up not without making a grunt just to make is presence known. "Dog," Aito simply said, looking over to the dog with that damned key around his neck. Walking over to the out of the cell, Aito knelt down and put his hand out. Waving his fingers and making a noise like, "Tch tch tch," Aito tried to get the dog to come. The dog looked up from his nap, wagging his tail. He trotted over to Aito and sniffed his hand from a distance. So close. His fate dangled so close and yet so far. As if to tease them, the dog stepped back and went back to his position and ignored the group. "We're screwed!" Aito frowned, seeing no hope of getting out. If the dog went away the first time chances are it would happen next - that's if the dog would be willing to get up again anyways. Looking over at the two who had already awoken, he gave them a quizzical look. "Any suggestions?" Aito stood up, looking at them and not even bothering to get familiar. Aito learned there is no point into getting familiar with others. Even so, he was stuck with them in this cell for who knows how long? Aito was already itching to get this task over and done with and continue to the neck. Just another step to winning. But from the looks of this group... ******** this s**t, he was screwed.

ooc:: Shortish ^^ Approx. 1,000. Not too bad haha.

▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ♧ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰ ▰

rusting from xxxxT
xxxxxxxxxiixxxx E xx I
rusting from xxxx M
『 the chains fall apart 』 ↴xxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx you run AWAY with no place TO GO

[vicious animal]

Ａｘｅｌ → The one hope that turned out to be a failure .
████████████████████████ ➸ ████████████

He was our last resort and he left us for his selfish reasons.
He was our last resort and he left us for his selfish reasons.
He was our last resort and he left us for his selfish reasons.

● ● ●
Place: The Spiked Pit .
Mood: Confident, but nervous .
Condition: Slightly injured .


The teen sat against the wall and sighed. 'What the hell is going on here?' the young adult thought. He tried sorting out clues and attaching them together as if they were pieces to a difficult puzzle that needed time and patience to be transformed into a picture once again. Well there was that shadowy figure. Could it have been him that sent them all to this dungeon? But if so, where did these odd characters come from? One took the appearance of a wrestler or samurai and the other an awfully thin girl. A probable damsel in distress. He then acknowledged a new presence. A man with an eye-patch was sleeping. Axel began a fit of laughter in his head. He thought eye-patches weren't even real. If they were even made in the old days. Axel shook his head. If he would've spent more time studying he would know.

Axel then calmed himself again and channeled his thoughts. A puzzle's desire was to be recreated. When Axel began piecing together each clue, an annoyed and annoying screech fill the empty darkness. "Can't you shut the hell up!? I'm trying-" Axel almost scolded the man, but then put a quell to it. His rudeness got him into a plethora of messes. And if he was to provoke the wrong individual he'd be in trouble. But Axel could already tell that man was going to be a nuisance. The man then stood up. His stature wasn't at all... correct. It looked as if he were a bit intoxicated, but never mind it. He then trudged over to Axel and offered his hand. "Need a lift there, friend?" the man asked. Axel almost raged over the fact that this man - a certified stranger - titled him friend. How old did he think Axel was, four!?

The boy then exhaled again in an attempt to recollect himself before he stated something or made an action he'd regret. Axel is a bit pre-angered, all you have to do is boil him. "I'm not your friend, buddy" The teen spat before taking his hand and letting him escalate the boy. He put he put one foot against the wall, crossed his arms, and puffed a few strands of his hair upward. The buffer man then stepped forward and explained his plan for getting out of here. The button was the main priority here. The sooner they escaped, the better. Axel couldn't help but wonder what awaited this group outside. It was oblivious to even him whether they were being played like a game because someone wanted them deceased or not. He then made a horrible attempt to through his prized possession in the death hole.

The fact that Axel felt the wall move inward slightly made him ponder upon if that made the wrestler overshoot his toss. More than likely it did. He then heard a booming voice in within his conscience.

"A little dizzying, isn't it? I don't know if the hole has gotten bigger or the room has gotten smaller... Something's got to give before you all take a nasty spill. What's keeping you, Paris? Just push the goat into the hole like you've been so deviously plotting."

There Axel was working a fresh puzzle now. Axel overheard the girl mention that her name was Ruri, and recalled the wrestler repeating it for clarification. That left him, and Mr.Patchy. Just when the teenager was about to brainstorm who it may be, the wrestler requested to know who was Paris. It was Mr.Eye-Patch then. Axel knew this because it would draw unnecessary attention to the wrestler if he asked who he himself was, and if the girl's name is Ruri, and his name is Titus Axel, there are no further suspects. The man then made a deal that if his plan were to fail, he would take his own life to set them free. "Hey! No! I have an idea. 'Cause there's no way in hell I'd take my own life to set a bunch of weirdos free while I lie there in my spilled blood. And I strongly despise 'owing people favors'." Axel ordered.

"I know how we can get out of here with no sacrifices." Axel said. "But damn you all if any of you push me down and make those things impale me, you better HOPE I die." Hope. The name of his sister rang through his head. What became of her? Is she dead? She wasn't a bad fighter but he didn't think she could handle herself against the Shinryaku-sha. Not even the weakest one on a bad day. With nothing left to comment on the boy stood and let the mystic purple "steam" of the Dark Aura consume him. Every muscle in his body tensed. It's been twelve years since he started training with this and he still couldn't bare it?

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
→ He is a fallen Shadousutoka. Wakare, Axel .

[Shrimp King]

；Sentō shōjo aka: Hoshiko ♛
xxxxxxxxxxxx ██████████████████████ ███████████████████████ ██████████████████████
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx best of cruel intentions, binding what they fail to mention, no truth, all pretension, raise your hand to give attention.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx best of cruel intentions, binding what they fail to mention, no truth, all pretension, raise your hand to give attention.
IT'S MY ✮ RED STAR, IT'S MY ✮ RED STAR. IT'S MY ✮ RED STAR.

⊱ ◕ ◕ ◕


↷ . fine;confused? ⊰ give or take room



Hoshiko soon settled into a kind of calm, acceptance, you could say. Now that she had an objective - free the pretty girl from the bad bondage - she felt right at home. In many ways, Hoshiko could be compared to a video game character. She was that sim that stood impatiently, her hips swaying, as she stared blankly at the wall, waiting for you to find her something to do. She was the sim that had her free will - but would rarely use it unless it was to take a nap on the couch or go have sex with a pretty lady sim. In many ways, she wandered the dungeons of life looking for the next way to level up, in hopes that eventually she would garner either enough trust and affection, or power to get what she wanted.

The truth.

That's what it was all about, after all.

So she busied herself with untangling the poor girl's eyes - she wanted to see what she looked like, after all! And if she was in the same posistion, she'd be grateful to see before she was grateful to move. So she was quite complacent to ignore the disgustingly boring room around her, focused quite content on freeing her captive, with glee, of course! She was the hero, and here she was saving someone! She really didn't get to do that often, in reality. She was always fighting blue and the others by the labs - they rarely ventured out into the city. She adored being able to be looked at like she was somebody - somebody ethereal and amazing and a wonderful role model. She loved how little girls would look up to her and think, 'ah, what an amazing badass biotch, right there.' Hell yeah.

So when Nydia started talking, she smiled consolingly, her best, sweet little celebrity smile. "Uuuhhh....whut?" She said, blankly tilting her head to the side, staring at her in confusion. What was she talking about? Oh maybe she should ... ...

Before she could even complete the thought, the captive girl before her had managed to get out of the constraints around her jaw. Impressive, Hoshiko thought. It must have taken a while. She wondered idly how long the other had been there, and instantly felt a pang of guilt. How long had she been here alone? Certainly 'grandpa ~ dross.' wouldn't leave her here all by herself?

"A stranger? aha, there are no strangers in love, war, and demented games!" Hoshiko said flippantly, pausing in her efforts. She blinked at Nydia when she said to keep the bandages on - after all, who would want to keep something around her eyes? Perhaps she was blind .... ...but bandages? Didn't blind people just wear black sunglasses? What an eccentric person. Like an anime character! She pondered this, her hands falling away, before she put her hands on her hips in surprise, her knees cold against the dark floor.

"Bothering me? Aha, - nonsense! You're ridiculous! I am justice, I sleep for no man! Or something like that...?" She shrugged, smiling dutifully, bending over to press a quick kiss to the girl's cheek, not unlike they did in Europe. She gave her a comforting pat on the back of the head, like she used to do with the kids in the hospital stuck to their beds through the sickly chains of ivs and machines, before leaning back on her haunches and stretching boredly.

"Of course I'll get you out... .." She said, settling down onto her a** and staring at the walls around her. It really was quite bland. She didn't like it. All it needed was a cot that smelt like ammonia and a hand sanitizer station, and it would be just another nightmare. She missed Blue. She missed last night. And she wondered idly what it was like, on the other side - back in Tokyo, at this very moment. She had cost quite a lot of money. Dr. Tsuki would be pissed.

"You know, you um... .. can't tell....I guess...but this place is a snoozefest." She said nonchalantly, as if she sat around with people in chains all the time. She shrugged her shoulder before leaning forward, looking at the chains carefully to see where the best place to break them would be. She settled for the wrists, first - she supposed that if the girls hands were freed she could assist, somehow, perhaps? She reached over with both of her pale, thin hands, thinking it would be child's play to snap them in half, only to find herself very much mistaken.

"SHITSTACKS WITH A s**t ON TOP AND s**t." She said, her face flushing with alarm, steam rippling off her hands where her fingers literally melted - or started to, anyways. Pain shot through her like nohting before, as if Blue was stabbing her in the chest, a hissing, burning sound filling the air as a blackness came off the chains and stuck to her hands, like guilt to the innocent. She bit her lip so hard it bled, jerking her whole body back in one violent motion.

She threw herself against the floor, looking up animalistically, her red bangs hanging over her eyes as she glared up - at the chains, with murderous intent. Without a second thought, she was back like whiplash - deciding that her body would heal eventually, and that the burns were merely a ******** horrible obstacle in her ******** way.

"TAWAGO!" She bellowed, as her hands once more went against the chains, her simmering bones digging into the handcuffs, as she pulled them apart with her unnatural strength. Finally, a satisfying crunch let out as the chains and her hands both gave. With a snarl of girlish rage, she slumped over, huffing, her hands dried up and bitter and bleeding and melting. She panted with the effort, trying hard to lick the blood off her lips and regain herself.

"One moment... .. please." She spat out, with a gasp. She pushed herself up again, not looking at her hands, preparing for another barrage. Her hair stuck to her face with the strenuous but sudden efforts, and her skin was undoubtedly pale. What the ******** was this????









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xxxxxx ⊱ ` ❝xWASTED EDUCATION, CELEBRATING IMITATION, MISPLACED ADMIRATION, SPEAKING FOR A GENERATION. ❞

[The Soulless Puppet]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx❀I am j u s t another ｗ ｏ ｍ ａ ｎ - -
' those ｔａｉｎｔｅｄ { h a n d s } cannot t o u c h you .
xxxxthose fixed ｅ ｙ ｅ ｓ cause MY f i n g e r ♚ to w a v e r ;

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Nadia continues to strive for perfection and goes to great lengths for such. A demon witch like her, it makes others wonder what she has done to get where she is now. She is quite vain but can never seem to be satisfied. Being perfect is the number one thing she has always wished for yet no matter how close she is to perfection it's not good enough. Either her nose is too crooked or her eyebrows are too high. Always making excuses she doesn't ever realize her nasty, poisonous personality she has. Every word she speaks is like liquid, vile toxins. The girl is so vain and greedy yet she thinks she is the hottest thing to walk or talk. Maybe that's why relationships don't work out too swell for her. People realize this. But deep down she is scarred and ugly and she knows it. While Nadia is immortal, she hasn't found her way quite yet. The b***h still wants to be perfect and speaks of the forbidden secrets from her book to fix herself. When the magic wears off every two years, this girl is as ugly as a shredded human. One look and you can be sick to your stomach. Thus she hides. Little legend has it that Nadias true face is as ugly and sick as her attitude and personality and will stay that way until she changes it. Of course little ol' Nadi doesn't believe in legends or omens and continues to ignore it despite how true it is. Forever she shall be vain. Forever shall she strive for perfection. The girl is truly hideous despite what she believes. Despite the looks she has.

Hearing rumors about a Game where if you won all your wildest dreams would come true, at least one wish. Nadia talked to those whom gossiped about it. She wanted to be in the Game and researched all she could only to find little. That was until one day her prayers were answered. Drosselmeyer came forth seeking Nadia, believing she could be a valuable, fun little piece in his sick Game. Strangely enough, Nadia found him to be ingenious for his sick little idea. Nadia was eager. She wanted to know more. The strange man explained the rules to her, only tempting her more. Oh how could she resist? Well, she couldn't. Without even deciding on her wish, she asked to enter. For some reason though, the man delayed. This infuriated Nadia. He refused her! How could he?! This pissed Nadia off to no end. Everyone else had gotten in so easily from what she heard and yet somehow he refused her out of all people. As she ranted to herself, Nadia called Drosselmeyer to come forth, this time going for a different approach. She kindly asked the man to enter and just so, he allowed it. Now the women still didn't know what she wanted but that didn't matter she would have to choose sometime. There were a number of things she could ask for. All the jewels and gems in the world. Reaching perfection that she had so long wished for. To be human for once, with an actual beating heart and true feelings other then jealousy. For bunnies to rule the world. For her to rule the world. Whatever the ******** she wanted and all she had to do was beat a silly ******** game. How more simple could it get?

Just like the man promised, Nadia woke up in the Game in a daze. She could hear people speaking except for there was one too many voices. It was Dross's voice saying, "Operation! Don't touch the sides... zap! Butterfingers! Some of you might remember that game. Some of you might've been terrible at it. Wake up now and look at what I've got for you. The key is inside the sickest patient in this room. Let the operating begin! Keep in mind, there are more patients that meet the eye. Have you figured this dirty game of doctor out yet?" Oh what a sick man, Nadia loved it! She thrived off of things like this! This man made her feel sick to the bone. Without hesitating, she stood up and looked around. Just as he promised. Operation tables. Dolls strapped down. "This is amazing," Nadia whispered in her own excited sending chills down her spine. "Dross... You are a ******** genius!" Nadia couldn't help but mumble more to herself to praise Dross. Of course that does not mean she held any respect for him, she respected on herself and no one else. It's a thing called pride. Yet another sin of hers. Then as she looked over at three others she realized the discoloration in the beads. Hers were onyx and theirs were obviously turquoise. Well well, it would seem as if she was on the opposing team. Quite interesting. Not like Nadia minded one bit, it interested more or less. Not like she planned on losing a bead or anything. The trick was not to let them get in your head and screw with your emotions, it was all Nadia had to worry about. They attacking her wouldn't matter. All she needed was to operate and get a key from either one of the dummy patients or one of them including herself. Dross clearly stated it could be anyone, that means herself. That could mean any on the same team. Or supposedly the suggested same teams.

Shrugging, there seemed to be a bit of confrontation with the opposing team. Or at least the chick was just freaking out. Yeah, seemed like freaking out. The other girl seemed to go unnoticed, though Nadia couldn't blame anyone. She was just so pale that she might as well be like the patients laying on the table. Poor thing looked so bland. "How does this work," Nadia walked over to a patient. Just like he said, it was like playing operation. Does that mean she couldn't touch the sides? Nadia was confused and looked towards the... Enemies? Nadia was unsure what to call them. Were they suppose to work as a team or were they suppose to be all against Nadia. "Well... Shall we see how things play out?" Nadia continued to mumble under her breath and observe the others to see their first move. Nadia wasn't about to fail the task when she could see what is to be done first. No way in hell was she going to risk such a golden chance. She could only hope that they don't take about ten gillion years and get on with the damn thing. She didn't want to stay in here forever and right now she wasn't feelin' too good. A little fresh air wouldn't bother her but being in this hell hole kind of made that impossible. No matter, in Dross's words it was suggested that the patients on the table weren't the only ones that could hold the key. Time could only tell whom was the sickest person in the room.



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↘ if o n l y I never met ｙ ｏ ｕ . . .
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxi < wo u l d > not h a v e this Ｄ Ｒ Ｅ Ａ Ｍ